For the Babies' Sakes (Expecting) (Harlequin Presents, No. 2280) Read Online Free PDF Page B

their much-adored children.Four, she’d thought. To make up for the family Dan had never had, for the bruising childhood and emptiness of his youth. There’d be jolly outings, holidays abroad, a life built on love and happiness, the security of their high-powered jobs.
    All for nothing. Because she couldn’t ever let him into her heart again.
    â€˜Helen!’ he muttered in alarm when she screwed up her body in despair. His grip tightened and he shook her slightly. ‘Please! What is it?’
    â€˜You! Don’t you understand? I can’t bear to look at you!’ she yelled in misery.
    Dimly she heard Dan thundering out of the room. To her confusion, she began to sob, because she’d wanted him to be there beside her, stroking, soothing… What a fool she was. It seemed she didn’t know what she wanted at all.
    Weak and defeated, she slumped against the pillows. Perhaps he was leaving and she’d never see him again. Horrified, she began to wail in earnest, her whole body succumbing to the sense of terrible desolation she felt.
    To be alone, without him. Never seeing his face, never hearing his breathing beside her as they lay in bed together, never lovingly and lingeringly smoothing out that dent in his pillow…
    Oh, why hadn’t she seen the danger signs, noticed that they were neglecting one another, put her foot down and insisted that they had time together?
    If only she could put the clock back! Then she’d never know he was really weak and flawed. But…was that so surprising? He’d had such a harsh and unloving upbringing… Maybe, she mused, he’d always covered up his faults, in a desperate attempt to make successive foster parents like him. And so he’d built his life on lies, on a mask that hid his true nature.
    She almost felt sorry for him. And consequently was more muddled than ever. But she had to remember that he wasn’t the man she’d imagined. She’d married an illusion—and couldn’t live with the reality: someone who cheated and lied for his own selfish ends.
    â€˜Helen.’ His voice was strangled, close to her ear. She put her hands up to shut him out but he hauled her up and roughly dabbed at her streaming eyes. ‘Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,’ he said rawly. ‘I’ve brought you some brandy. You must drink it—I insist. You’ll be so ill…’
    She couldn’t be ill. She must be strong and organise her new life. See solicitors. Produce lists of things to do.
    The jagged sobs came less frequently. She allowed him to hold the glass to her trembling lips, to enclose her feeble hands with his because they both knew she’d drop the glass otherwise.
    The brandy silked a warm and beguiling path to her stomach and revived her. She kept her gaze fixed on the glass. On his hands. She’d always loved them. Big and capable but with long, slender fingers that had lain against her face while his mouth had slowly descended in a sweet or sometimes blistering kiss… She choked.
    â€˜Just drink,’ he husked. ‘Don’t think about anything. Don’t torture yourself. It’s all right. Honestly.’
    But it wasn’t. And the sooner she accepted that the better. Though she couldn’t help grieving.
    â€˜How is it all right?’ she whispered mournfully, her voice cracking midway.
    He swallowed, some unknown emotion overcoming him. ‘It is. Believe me. We’ll sort this out. I can’t bear to see you so upset,’ he husked.
    â€˜You should have thought of that before you played hunt the dolly-bird,’ she muttered.
    His mouth clammed up and he stalked over to shed the towel and grab his robe, turning around once he’d drawnit around his nakedness and had begun to yank the belt into an angrily tied knot.
    â€˜You know how hard I’ve been working!’ he lashed. ‘I’m not Superman. I would never have had the energy